


all I wanna be is whites in waves

by quinnking



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Smutlet, Unsafe Sex, immediately follows THAT scene in 2x17, yes - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2019-04-14 10:18:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14134029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quinnking/pseuds/quinnking
Summary: He deftly gets rid of her shoes, eases her trousers off and, yup. There it is.As if reading his mind, she says, "I wouldn't get rid of it."





	all I wanna be is whites in waves

**Author's Note:**

> goddamn you, show. we didn't even get a kiss. whatever. here's what we should've seen. 
> 
> follow me on tumblr (quinnking) or on twitter (quinnkings)! <3

_i've been upside down, i don't wanna be the right way round. can't find paradise on the ground._

* * *

He expects her to come see him. He expects that. What he doesn't expect, however, is how she looks.

Dark make-up, snake-skin blouse, cleavage up to her neck, and her hair floofed up. She hasn't looked like this... well, since the last time  _this_ specifically happened. 

He invites her in, because of course he does. He spits out his gum because he knows she hates it, knows she hates when he has it before she kisses him. And she does kiss him, fists her hands in his shirt and kisses him steadily. 

She tastes the same and god help him, she feels the same. He feels the same when he's touching her, hands clenched bruisingly around her hip, feels the same when she tightens her hand in his hair. 

He walks them backwards into the bedroom, hastily removing clothes as they go. He needs to get her pants off, that's what he needs.

And he does; she's standing in front of the bed, bare from neck to tummy, and he kneels in front of her. He deftly gets rid of her shoes, eases her trousers off and, yup. There it is. 

As if reading his mind, she says, "I wouldn't get rid of it." 

He nods, tongue sneaking out to trace along the outer lines of the familiar tattoo. She keens and he pushes her back onto the bed, easing himself between her legs. He almost rips her panties in his haste, but doesn't, just tosses them over his shoulder and doesn't even hesitate to lick a swipe up her slit. 

Her legs fall open for him and he pushes them over his shoulders so her heels are digging into his back. 

He wonders if he can tune her the way he used to; play her like she's the instrument he hasn't touched in so long, but is still able to strike all the right chords. He sucks on her clit and eases two fingers into her on exhale, crooking them. Her back bows and he almost hears the applause. 

She tightens around him, his tongue hastily working her clit, until she makes this wonderfully beautiful sound - a choked off moan, sounding suspiciously like his name. 

He feels a sharp tug on his hair and he slithers up her body, his still-wet fingers gripping her hip bones. They kiss lazily, and he can't help but moan into her mouth when she slips her tongue behind his teeth to taste herself. 

They wind up in the middle of the bed once all of his clothes come off, her legs wrapped around his waist, their bodies slipping and sliding together. He's got her hands above her head in one of his, holding her steady as he moves. 

_Alice, Alice, Alice._

He thinks he may have said it out loud, because she bucks up each time he thinks it.

He can't focus properly, he really can't, because she feels like home and he's drowning in it. 

"Harder," she gasps and he shifts, knocking something inside of her and causing her to throw her head back. He lets go of her hands, places them on either side of her shoulders and starts to move in earnest. 

Her nails rake down his back and he hisses at the pain of it, leaning down to kiss her again until she moans out, "F.P.," and that's what dooms him. His thrusts become more erratic, but she doesn't seem to mind. He gets her through her orgasm first, shifting her legs up his arms, keeping his eyes trained on her face as she comes apart under him.

And,  _fuck,_ it's just as beautiful as he remembers. She's got her blonde hair sweat-matted to her face, her lips are swollen and her blue eyes are bleeding black. The sight alone is enough to have him thrusting as deep as he can and spilling inside of her.

This, this feels like home. It feels like coming home after a long day, like he's waited his whole life to be here again. 

He rolls onto his back, brings her with him and lays her across his chest. He swallows down the nostalgia, even as he noses her hair and wonders how she still smells the same after all these years. 

"Thank you," she murmurs into the skin on his chest, their fingers intertwining. 

He debates responding, squeezing her hand in his, kissing the crown of her head. 

After a couple of moments, he says, "my pleasure," and that's not what he wanted to say at all. 


End file.
